Operation Pied Piper
by Atkar
Summary: Historia Reiss is one of many of the evacuees during World War Two, a luggage tag around her neck with a fake name. Where will she end up and who will she meet? (Yumikuri)
1. Chapter 1

**Operation Pied Piper**

**_A YumiKuri Fanfiction_**

**Part One**

The train jostled, people swaying, hands flying out to grab hold of something, to find some form of stability in the bustling carriage.

Historia bit her lip, eyes cast down to stare in her lap. She had been lucky enough to get one of the table seats when the train had been mostly empty. But a quick glance up now showed that barely anyone could move and that with every sharp jerk and sudden turn of the train made the groups of people abruptly shift, the people in their seats also clenching their teeth, some digging their nails into the leather beneath them. The train was going fast and the mass number of bodies inside didn't make it any better.

However, 'people' was probably the wrong word to describe the small figures that filled the carriage. _Children. We're all children. _

Historia's hand curled around the label that hung at her neck, being careful not to bend the card but wishing she could just scrunch it up into a ball and throw it out the window. She didn't need to read it to know what was written there. _Christa Renz. _

The lie was elegantly written in cursive that graced the brown card – her mother's handwriting. The letters underneath were an illegible scrawl that were supposed to denote her destination.

Before she had stepped onboard the train, she had turned to her parents, her mother's eyes glistening with deceitful tears, her father looking down at her with a blood-curdling smile that was supposed to appear loving. She knew both of them were glad to see her off, glad to wave at her through the carriage window, glad for the war that sent her away.

She also knew that they never expected to see her again. _Not that I particular want to see them again either._

Sighing, Historia looked up across the table. Two boys and a girl were opposite her, sat close together yet not looking uncomfortable with the proximity. _They must know each other._

As if hearing her thoughts, the brown-haired boy sat in the middle suddenly turned to the girl beside him. His green eyes seemed to glow as he whispered in her ear. She looked to be asleep, her face hidden behind her warm red scarf, but at his voice her almost black eyes blinked open.

The blonde boy beside them, sat next to the window, had his face buried in a large leather-bound book, his bright blue eyes flitting quickly across the pages with an expression of growing fascination with each quick flick of paper.

All three wore the large luggage tags as she did and she tried to make out the names but failed to decipher the words. The trio had been on the train as long as she had and she wondered if they had come aboard at the same station.

Historia watched as the green eyed boy turned to the fair-head at the window, reading over his shoulder, asking a question about what he saw. The girl's black eyes followed them, her expression blank yet the look in her eyes curious.

Looking closer, Historia saw the shadows under the trio's eyes, the creases in their clothes, the scruff marks and the dull greasy shine of their hair. It was obvious that the three had seen their own part of the war already.

The war had just begun but there was already scars being drawn across the country, men leaving, families torn apart, the lands bleeding crimson.

Sensing Historia's gaze, the girl's eyes met hers. Historia immediately looked down. Before she could even consider that the girl may think her rude or try and initiate a conversation, the train started to slow.

Historia looked to the side, the outside of the train a green blur of racing fields and hills. While it thrilled her to be away from home, escaping the dreaded fate she knew she had there, she was also terrified. She had no clue where she was going or who would care for her. She'd heard stories of children worked to the bone, of children who'd been beaten by uncaring guardians, of children who were fed the bare minimum. However, at this point those were only rumours, perhaps only created by whispering women over cups of rationed tea with nothing else to do but ponder the lives of those sent away. They preferred to imagine about the children sent to the countryside homes than the lives of the men who were sent across the Channel.

Of course, the newspapers declared victories and beautifully skipped around the fact that men were dying in the most horrid of ways. _The world is built on lies and deceit._

Historia knew that the country's morale was more important that the truth – at least to the politicians and war leaders. But she didn't care much for that. Many children had already been evacuated from the cities in preparation for the incoming attacks on British shores. Many men had already left their homes to take up arms against the attacking armies across the water. _Nazis. _The word felt foreign on Historia's tongue. _Adolf Hitler._ She had seen pictures and footage of the man, his moustache bristling on his upper lip as he shouted out a language that bubbled nonsense to her.

Historia had heard about the fallen in France. That was the entire point of the second lot of evacuations. The reason why they were here – sat on this train, being sent away to places unknown. The war had only just begun yet it felt like a century had already passed. Time was racing by, yet the days moved by so slowly. The war had only just begun but it felt like it would never end.

The train had slowed to a steady roll, brakes squealing loud as it stopped, the green world outside blocked out by the sudden appearance of a grey-stoned platform.

Historia swallowed. _Is this the place? _

The train had stopped at various stations throughout the morning but no one had motioned her to get off, so she had remained in her seat, resisting the temptation to rip away at her nails.

A loud voice boomed, causing everyone in the carriage to startle. People started to move out through the open door, lugging cases along with them, nametags swinging on their necks.

The voice boomed again and Historia twitched in her seat. The trio across from her were shifting along their bench, the blonde shutting his book with a light thud of heavy paper. As they rose, Historia also stood, following close behind them, her own suitcase in her grasp.

Just as her feet hit the platform, the door shut behind her, a whistle blowing, a man waving, and the train soon began to roll away once again. It left a foul taste in her mouth. _We really are just luggage to be dropped off – who cares where or who, there's a schedule to keep to. _The idea dismayed Historia and she dragged her gaze away from the leaving train, forcing down the feeling of abandonment that rose in her throat.

The voice from before boomed once more, this time the words coherent. "Get away from the edge, move – I said MOVE! Line up. HEY, do you hear me?! _Line up by the wall_!"

Historia's hands clenched tighter around the handle of her suitcase as she joined the others in the rush to the wall, pressing their backs against the cold stone.

The booming voice belonged to an imposing man, his eyes sunken in dark pits, frighteningly wide with anger as he roared at the children who dared to be slow. He wore an army uniform and, from the look of it, the man was of high rank. _Why would he be organising children? _

As the man turned to look at the line of children before him, his bald head gleamed in the afternoon sun, his hand reaching up his bearded chin to brush away spit that had escaped from his yelling lips.

Historia glanced to her sides at her fellow evacuees. She judged that there was at least around fifteen or more around her. She wished to count how many had gotten off the train, how many people she would be sharing this new home with, when another shout made her press hard against the wall again.

"RIGHT, let's get this over with. The sooner the better!" The man lifted a clipboard, his shadowy eyes darting madly, his fingers dashing through the papers, reading names and searching numbers.

With a sharp tap on the clipboard, he seemed to find what he was looking for and he looked back up at the children. All were still. Silent. Waiting.

"_ARMIN ARLERT!"_


	2. Chapter 2

**Operation Pied Piper **

**Part Two**

The blonde haired boy from the train, the large leather-bound book held tight to his chest, stepped forwards.

The clipboard was waved at him angrily. "Armin Arlert?!" the man demanded again.

"Yes, sir." The boy said, his voice almost a high squeak.

"SPEAK UP, BOY!"

"YES, SIR!" the boy's back straightened, his chin high, his eyes staring forwards. His lips quivered ever so slightly but his gaze didn't waver as the man stepped closer to him. A calloused hand grabbed the tag that hung at the boy's neck and, after a quick glance, dropped it like a hot stone.

"You've been placed under the care of Erwin Smith," the dark sunken eyes were studying the thin blonde with a look of disdain. He motioned with a sharp jab of his index finger to the end of the platform. "There's a carriage waiting for you. Take it and get rid."

The boy – Armin – seemed to hesitate, looking back at the two he had been with on the train with a lost expression. Historia saw the two twitch as their friend turned to them, shifting uneasily, but unwilling to step forwards in fear of the roaring rage that they would suffer.

"GO!" the man shouted, his face close to Armin's.

The blonde flinched, spinning on his heel, retrieving his suitcase from where it rested against the wall, and rushed to the end of the platform, jumping down large steps until all Historia could see was the boy's fair crown as he disappeared around the corner.

Another loud tap on the clipboard attracted Historia's attention back to the uniformed man. The eyes that scanned the lists of names were bloodshot and his stance was rigid.

"NACK TEAZ!" the voice boomed. This time a boy with short dark hair stepped forwards. From the twitch of his eyebrow and his wide eyes, Historia could tell the imposing man scared him but, just as Armin had, he stared forwards and spoke with a clear loud voice, "Yes, sir!"

A few more names were called, each expected to step forwards and declare "Yes, sir" aloud, the man grabbing the tags at their necks and then throwing them away after checking their names. _Thomas Wagner. Millius Zermusky. Mina Carolina. _

Historia's jaw shifted to the side. Some names didn't sound exactly _British_. She'd heard that people had been moved across from Europe, away from the destruction and death of the battlefields, but she never expected to see them here.

When there were her and ten others remaining by the wall, the man paused. He tore away the top sheet of paper and pushed it underneath another. She watched as his finger moved down the next list of names.

He took a deep breath and opened his mouth. _How doesn't he get a sore throat?_ "JEAN KIRSCHSTEIN!"

Historia's jaw shifted again. That name _definitely _wasn't English.

Looking around her, she saw that she wasn't the only one that had noticed. The green eyed boy from the train, friend to Armin, was openly glaring at the nervous boy who moved forwards. She had seen the green eyed boy's mouth twist when each suspiciously sounding name was called, the anger in his enraged glare growing.

"Yes, sir!" his voice was clear and lacked any sign of an accent.

The man eyed the luggage tag. "You're packing up with the Bossards. I wouldn't expect a carriage waiting for you."

Jean nodded, glancing apprehensively towards the end of the platform. The suitcase at his side looked beaten, as if it had travelled a long way with little care, and he heaved it up with a grimace.

The girl with the scarf grabbed the green eyed boy's wrist as he stepped after Jean, pulling him back against the wall. The touch seemed to calm him down and he let a breath escape through clenched teeth, the tension in his shoulders relaxing.

"EREN JAEGER, MIKASA ACKERMAN!"

Historia blinked in surprise as the green eyed boy and the scarf-wearing girl stepped forwards, simultaneously calling out, "Yes, sir!" Their names were as foreign sounding as the others that the boy had glared at with such hatred. _Especially_ '_Jaeger'_.

"Seems Levi and Miss Ral are taking you," the man said while studying their tags. "Lucky bastards."

Eren looked up sharply but then quickly shifted his gaze to the side, reaching for his case, moving down the platform, Mikasa walking at his side, her lips moving but her words too quiet for Historia to hear.

The man suddenly growled at his clipboard. He rapidly fired out a list of names, some responded with a "yes, sir" from the line of children, other names answered with a seconds pause.

Historia panicked slightly as she heard her name – her _fake_ name – and stumbled out her reply, blushing yet no one even spared her a moment's notice.

"Whose name didn't I call out?!" the man demanded from the children.

A long arm rose up in the air at the end of the line. Historia lifted her head but couldn't see who the person was. She leaned forwards for a better look, inwardly cursing her short stature for the umpteenth time.

A tall, gangly girl stood at the very end of the line of children, towering over those around her. Her skin was tanned, her cheeks and nose patterned with freckles. Her dark hair was loose and messy, hanging low around her face and trailing over her shoulders. She wore trousers, unlike any of the other girl who wore dresses or skirts, and a dark grey shirt, the cuffs rolled up to her elbows, the top few buttons undone to reveal her collarbone. Her expression was empty, her sharp gaze watching the man approach her, her brown eyes guarded.

The girl straightened from her leaning position against the wall as the man stood in front of her. It was then that Historia noticed the absence of a suitcase by the girl's side. But what struck Historia more was that the girl wore no luggage tag around her throat.

_Who…?_

"WHO THE _HELL_ ARE YOU?" the man shoved his face close to the girl's, his eyes wide and bulging from their blackened sockets.

The girl didn't even flinch. "Ymir, sir."

"Ymir_, _is it?!" He pointed an accusing finger at the girl. "And where's your tag, _Ymir_?!"

The girl steadily let out a sigh. "I lost it, sir."

The man spluttered. "_LOST_ IT?"

The girl nodded. "Yes, sir."

The man's jaw jerked dangerously to the side, the sound of his teeth sliding harshly against each other making Historia wince.

"No time for this! Let's just hope you can get a place with a look like that." The man grumbled, his roaring voice still shaking at a low tone. He returned to stand before the line. "The rest of you are to wait in the town hall. NOW _GO_."

The line started moving towards the end of the platform, some of the evacuees sharing worried looks. None of them knew where the town hall was.

"HEY! You _little shits_! Town hall is the big building at the end of the road!" the man motioned high with his clipboard. Then with a snap of his boots clicking together, the man spun away and marched in the opposite direction, jumping off at the other end of the platform.

When Historia reached the steep stairs at the end of the platform, she heard voices. _Arguing voices. _And she'd heard enough of them to recognize the tone.

Pressed against the station wall, his feet hanging above the grassy ground, was Jean, his face twisted as he shouted something at Eren, whose hand was gripping tightly onto the boy's shirt collar, lifting him high.

"You _German!"_ Eren spat.

"What the hell!" Jean retorted. "Your name is as German as mine, you asshole."

"I'm _not_ German!"

"Well, neither am I. Now get off me!"

Eren's lips pulled into a thin line, his green eyes glowing with rage, when a gentle hand touched his wrist.

"Mikasa?" he asked the girl beside him, his voice unsure yet still full of anger.

"Let him go, Eren," the girl quietly said. "You're just causing trouble."

After a moment's hesitation, Eren pulled away from Jean, dropping him like a sack of potatoes. And Jean hit the floor as such.

With a curse, the boy spat onto the ground, saliva splaying across the grass. Eren made a disgusted face but turned away, following Mikasa down the gravelled road.

But Jean wasn't finished.

He pushed himself up off the ground, stomping towards Eren, and dragged him back by his shoulder.

"WHAT THE HELL?" Eren yelled, his eyes wide as Jean's fist pulled back and hit him square on the chin.

Before Jean could launch himself forwards once more, Mikasa stood between them, her black eyes gleaming with something unreadable.

Jean froze.

"What a joke…" a voice sneered behind Historia.

Historia startled slightly, turning her head to find the source of the voice.

She was met with the sight of the tall gangly girl from before. She stood behind Historia, one foot raised up on the last step leading down from the platform. Her left hand was buried in her trouser pocket, her right clasped around the back of her neck, her elbow raised in the air at an angle.

Historia couldn't help but take a step back.

The movement brought the girl's gaze down to focus on her. Her eyes were a deep brown, swirling and unfathomable. At this distance Historia could easily see the dust and dirt that coated the girl's clothing and skin. The rolled up cuff at her raised elbow appeared to be stained with dried blood and her ankle-high boots were scuffed and caked in age-old mud. She looked older than any of the other children, her arms toned and her body slender. She looked past the age to be considered a child that needed to be evacuated. An eerie atmosphere seemed to cloak itself around the tall figure, her shadow silently whispering things that should never be known.

The girl scared her.

Historia swallowed. _What was her name again? Y…Ymir?_

Ymir raised an eyebrow, seemingly amused at Historia's stunned silence and blatant stare. "Got a problem?"

Historia shook her head violently.

"Right." Ymir shrugged, moving away. Historia watched the girl split away from the crowd of children, her stride long and determined as she made her way down the road.

Historia returned her attention to the people around her. The scuffle between Eren and Jean appeared to have ended. Mikasa and Eren were back to leaning against the station wall, Jean standing on the opposite side of the road. Eren was sporting a red swelling on his chin and Mikasa was studying it with concern.

The small crowd started to move up the road, following in the footsteps of Ymir but at a much slower and uncertain pace.

Historia joined their advance but halted with the rest when they saw someone approaching.

A man was nearing them from the top of the road, his steps tense and sure, rapidly reaching them and though he was at distance, they could all feel the man's presence and they instinctively shrank back.

_What kind of town is this?! _

Historia once again pushed down the lonely feeling of abandonment and waited.

* * *

**_A/N_**

**I can't promise historical accuracy nor can I promise that I will keep in character but I do hope that you can look past any errors and enjoy the story.**

**Thank you,**

**Atkar.**


	3. Chapter 3

**Operation Pied Piper**

**Part Three**

The man strode purposely towards the station, his eyes gazing straight and his pace determined.

When he was parallel with the group of children, Historia blinked in surprise. For all the power and presence that rolled off the man in suffocating waves, his stature was incredibly smaller than expected.

He wore an army uniform, his boots shining and his clothes perfectly organised on his short yet powerful body. From the metal glinting on his jacket it was obvious that he was an experienced member of the army, his rank surpassing the man who had roared their names on the platform.

He had short black hair that shifted slightly as he walked, strands falling just beside his blue eyes. As he passed the children, he glanced at them and Historia fought against the urge to retreat a step. He had an icy blue stare that pierced through your soul, intimidating and unforgiving.

He stopped abruptly beside Mikasa and Eren who were still by the station wall. They turned to look at him and Historia saw Eren's green eyes widen.

"Eren Jaeger and Mikasa Ackerman?" the man asked of them calmly.

Eren stiffened and Mikasa stood away from him, throwing away all concern she'd had for the red swelling on his face. They faced the short man fully and nodded, Eren stuttering out a, "Yes, s-sir, t-that's us."

The man regarded them with a curiously disinterested look. "I'm the one taking you guys in," he looked behind them. "Grab your cases and move your arses." The man suddenly spun on his heel in a fine quick movement and was already moving away from the two.

Eren's mouth opened and closed, breathless air escaping his mouth with words caught in his throat. Mikasa had picked up both their cases and was following the man. The green eyed boy called out after the girl, rushing to catch up.

Historia glanced around her and realized that everyone else had resumed walking up the gravelled road, leaving her standing on her own.

Tearing her eyes away from the strange man and the pair, she started making her way to the town hall, watching her feet so not to trip on the uneven ground.

Behind her, she could easily hear Eren blurt out, "What do we call you, sir?"

"Sir will do."

There was a pause, the moment's silence heavy. "But…um…"

"Levi," the man curtly said. "My name's Levi."

Historia didn't have to look to know that Eren was grinning, happy with a sense of achievement after learning the man's name.

"Have you been to the frontlines, sir?"

There was a sharp scrape of gravel, stones scattering. "Do you want to see the frontlines, boy?"

"Eren…" Mikasa quietly warned.

"It's just the army is fighting for our sake, right?" Eren's voice sounded passionate. "Men are going out there, seeing something none of us have, fighting for our country."

Before the boy could continue in his excited talk about the army, the man cut him off with a crisp tone, "And many people have died fighting for this country."

The conversation faded, Eren supplying no response. There was another scrape of gravel and then the crunch of footsteps as they continued walking.

Historia picked up pace.

**_-#-_**

The town hall was a small stone building consisting of a single room. The room had been prepared in advance for their arrival, the space where the numerous desks were lined now empty, the desks pushed to the side against the side wall.

A long table spread across the top of the room, clear of anything save for a jug of water and glasses in the centre.

The hall was empty.

The children stood in the middle of the room, shifting uneasily, unsure of what to do. No one spoke aloud, only a few mumbling to each other, as if scared of drawing attention to themselves.

The town hall door swung open and the roaring man from the platform strode in, the clipboard still in his hand.

"LINE UP!" he yelled at them and everyone jumped, quickly forming two lines, one behind the other with a metre or so distance between them.

The man went over to the water jug, pouring out a glass with one hand. He stood by the table, glass to his lips, his bloodshot eyes watching them from their blackened pits.

It wasn't long before people started to enter the hall. There were few, but Historia felt like a pig at the market as they moved along the lines, inspecting the children like goods.

"What's your name?"

"Connie Springer, ma'am."

Historia turned her head to see a boy with such short hair he looked bald. His chin was raised high, his eyes not meeting the woman's in front of him.

Before Historia could see what happened next a face suddenly loomed before her.

Startling, she backed away, stepping out of the line.

She sensed the man at the table tense behind her, knowing his mouth was widening in preparation for a mighty roar.

She immediately returned to her previous position, leaning back as the face peered closely at her.

"Y-yes?" she asked quietly.

"Name?" a voice asked.

"His- I mean, Christa Renz." She answered.

Thankfully, the face moved away. "Hanji Zoe."

Blinking, Historia focusing on the person in front of her. A tallish woman with brown hair tied in a high ponytail rocked back and forth on the balls of her feet. Wide, almost sparklingly, brown eyes looked at Historia through a pair of glasses that sat high on the woman's nose.

The woman grinned. She pointed at herself. "Hanji Zoe." She repeated.

"Ah, um…" Historia ducked her head. "M-Miss Zoe…?"

"Call me Hanji." The woman immediately interjected.

"Miss Hanji," Historia licked her lips. "Wh-"

"Just Hanji." The woman's grin never wavered.

Historia didn't know what to say. There had been a question on the tip of her tongue but it was gone now. _This situation is all too weird. _

The woman's face neared Historia's again. "Want to come and live with me?"

Historia couldn't stop the gasp that escaped her lips.

The woman chuckled. "Well, it's not just me – there's Sasha there as well. She's about your age." Her head cocked to the side. "What do you say?"

"Ah, um…" Historia lifted her head, then looked down at the ground again. "If…If it's okay then…"

The woman grabbed her hand and lifted it above her head. The woman was taller than Historia – _though everyone is_ – and she had to stand on her tiptoes as her hand was pulled up.

"I'll take this one!" she cheerfully exclaimed.

Historia's cheeks heated up as everyone in the room turned to look at them.

The man at the table glared at them, his lip curling up. He raised the clipboard. "Sign this and go."

After the woman had left her messy scrawl on the forms, she grabbed Historia's hand again and literally dragged her out of the hall.

"Sasha will love this!" she laughed.

Historia struggled to keep up with the woman, heaving her case up so it didn't hit the ground as they went.

"Um, excuse me, Miss Ha-"

The woman abruptly halted, Historia bumping into her back. She mumbled apologies as she stepped away. "I told you – it's Hanji," the woman grinned at her. "_Hanji_. Right?"

Historia hesitated.

"Yeah?" the woman was giving her an expectant look, her eyes bright and her grin so incredibly cheerful that Historia couldn't help but give a small smile back.

"Yeah, Hanji."

The woman leapt into the air, almost taking Historia along with her by the hand. Once back on the ground, she snatched Historia's case from her and carried it in her other hand, her left still clenched tight on Historia.

Finally, they slowed.

Historia was out of breath from the brisk walk and had to bend down, her hand still encaptured by Hanji.

"Here we are!"

Historia recovered her breath, brushed back her blonde hair and looked up.

They were stood outside a two-floor house, built partly in stone and brick, some panels of wood breaking up the grey and dull red. The bottom floor was larger than the second, an expanse of stone spreading out to the side, disappearing into the small wood that surrounded the building. The main door looked solid oak, beaten and weathered by an age of storms.

Hanji released her hand and skipped to the door, retrieving a key from her coat pocket. Once the door was unlocked and pushed open, she beckoned Historia closer.

As Historia stepped inside, she was hit with the warm aroma of baking bread. Her nostrils widened as she breathed in through her nose.

Hanji, seeing her expression, laughed, clasping both her shoulders and crouching down to speak in her ear. "That's Sasha. She's a brilliant cook."

Historia murmured something indecipherable in return.

Hanji moved around her, carrying her suitcase, and strolled down the corridor. The floor was wood panelled, the corridor the length of the entire building, numerous doors and empty doorways splitting off into other parts of the house.

Hanji went to the end of the corridor and turned right, disappearing into a room.

Historia quickly followed her. The door to the room was kept open by a metal doorstop in the form of a horse head. She breathed in again. The smell of baking bread was stronger here and looking around, Historia realized that she stood in the doorway of a massive kitchen.

It was rustic, the floor large terracotta slaps of stone, a gigantic Aga in the corner between pristine counters, a island in the centre of the room surrounded by hanging utensils, another small door leading off the kitchen, possibly into a pantry.

The smell of bread was coming from the Aga, a girl crouched down in front of it, peering inside at the rising loaves.

"Nearly ready?" Hanji asked. She was leaning on the island, smiling at the girl.

The girl looked up. Her dark brown hair was tied up, strands of hair hanging loose around her face. Her eyes were a light brown and seemed to glimmer as they looked at Hanji. A smile similar to the Hanji wore spread around her face.

"Just about done, yeah." The girl affirmed, closing the Aga door.

Hanji motioned towards Historia who was still stood in the doorway. "This is Christa – she's an evacuee from the city."

Sasha rapidly stood, spinning around to stare wide-eyed at Historia. She reached across to grab a towel from the counter, wiping away the flour and moisture from her hands and then casually throwing it back down. She dashed across the room and grabbed both of Historia's hands in hers.

"You never told me about this!" she cried.

"Spontaneity keeps life interesting," the woman tucked a loose hair behind her ear. "So? What do you think?"

"What do I think? I think – this is amazing!" the girl's eyes met Historia's. "My name is Sasha, it's so nice to meet you!"

Historia was taken aback, but her smile grew. The chaotic feeling that had grown in her chest was calming and she spoke steadily, "It's nice to meet you too."

Sasha grinned wolfishly. "Oh, this is going to be great."


	4. Chapter 4

**Operation Pied Piper**

**Part Four**

Historia wiped the sweat from her brow, letting out a tired breath as she straightened. She glanced around at the field, her eyes pausing at each mound of dirt. She had spent the whole morning planting seeds in one of the smaller fields of the village's farms.

The week since she had arrived here had flown by, each day beginning before the sun even rose above the rolling hills and each day ending in darkness, collapsing onto the bed in the room she shared with Sasha.

Historia raised her gaze. Hanji's house was at the bottom of the small hill where she stood, a sloping field of growing vegetables. Beyond that lay the rest of the village. She could see the town hall and knew that behind that, at the bottom of that gravel road, was the small train station.

Turning slowly, Historia took in the acres and acres of fields that surrounded her. The village was completely based on agriculture, everyone living on what the fields gave them. It was hard to believe that the same country that seemed so quiet and peaceful, a life of animals and fields and fresh air, was at war.

Historia slapped her gloved hands together, splaying out dirt in all directions. She started making her way down the hill, returning to the place she now called home.

The house was half hidden by a forest, the trees getting closer and closer the further away from the building they were. Historia followed the tree line with her eyes until she reached the large house at the top of the tallest hill in the village. The estate was at the centre of the farms, the main 'fort' of the village. The man who owned it was called Erwin Smith. From what she could remember, that was who had taken in the blonde boy from the train – Armin Arlert.

"Christa!"

Historia snapped her gaze forwards and saw Sasha waving excitedly from the back door.

"Hey!" she called back.

"Thanks for your hard work." Sasha smiled, offering a glass of water.

Historia took it gratefully and gulped it down greedily, the cold liquid smoothing her raw throat.

Passing back the empty glass, Historia peeled off her muddied boots and placed them beside the door. She followed the brown-haired girl inside, walking into the hallway and across it to the kitchen.

Historia slumped against the counter. "Please tell me it's lunchtime?" she asked.

Sasha laughed. "You'll have to wait. Hanji's taking us out."

Historia looked over at her. "Huh?"

"Hanji's taking us out for lunch once she gets back from work. She has a half day today."

Hanji worked at a munitions factory in the neighbouring town. Before the war, everyone in the village worked on the farms but many of the women now travelled to the factory, leaving the farming to the children or the women who couldn't afford the train.

Historia sighed. "And what about you?"

Sasha blinked. "What do you mean?"

"You were up working before me," She peered at the girl's clenched fists. "I doubt you could wait till Hanji gets back."

Seeing Historia's interest in her hands, Sasha immediately shoved them in her pockets. Historia laughed. "I'm not going to take anything away from you."

Hesitating a moment, the girl slowly pulled out her hands and opened them to reveal chunks of bread that she had mysteriously had time to tear from the loaf on the counter.

Over the past week, Historia and Sasha had become good friends, working together, eating together, sleeping in the same room. Though Sasha woke up before she did and they both were too tired at night to even consider talking in the darkness of their room, they had gotten to know each other. Of course, Historia had left out quite a bit about herself and she sensed that Sasha was holding something back as well. But she had a friend and some secrets didn't really matter.

The front door slammed, startling the two girls. Sasha quickly stuffed the bread into her mouth, gobbling it down as rapidly as she could before Hanji reached the kitchen.

"You ready, girls?!" a voice called as the woman bounded into the kitchen, arms open wide, her overalls pulled down to bunch at her waist, a dirty white shirt the only thing she wore underneath.

Historia had been slightly thrown at first by Hanji's way of dress but was beginning to get used to it. Dresses and skirts didn't seem to take any part in her wardrobe. _Then again, that girl had been wearing trousers. _Historia hadn't been able to forget that girl she saw on the day she arrived here. _Ymir. I wonder where she is._

A hand on her shoulder jerked Historia out of her thoughts. Hanji's face was close to hers, a grin spread across her lips. "I'm taking you to meet Petra." She said.

"Your friend at the munitions factory?" Historia asked.

"Ah, well, yes, but we've worked on the farms for years together before we did any of that." She straightened. "I'll get out of these and then we'll be off."

As she turned to leave, she waved a hand at Sasha. "And try not to eat _too_ much."

Sasha choked.

**_-#-_**

The three of them walked up the road from the mismatched house, the forest to their right. After a while, the forest started to move away and houses dotted the side of the road.

Historia's eyes were drawn to a building further up the road, smoke rising from the chimney, quite apart from the surrounding homes.

"What's that?" she motioned towards it.

Hanji answered. "That's the blacksmith."

"Reiner is an apprentice there," Sasha added. "And Bertholdt is the village's farrier. He works from there as well and travels to the stables up at the estate when he needs to."

"Reiner and Bertholdt?"

"You'll get to meet them soon enough," Hanji threw her a smile. "But first – _my _friends."

"Yes, ma'am!" Sasha stopped in her tracks and saluted. Historia couldn't help laughing behind her hand.

They took the road that split off from the one that went past the blacksmith and reached a bungalow. The windows were gleaming in the afternoon sun, the door painted a bright white, the garden out front perfectly ordered and the flowers blooming.

The moment Hanji's foot touched the footpath, the front door opened to reveal a blonde haired woman wearing an apron over the top of her clothes.

Pulling at her skirts, the woman smiled at them. "Hanji! You're earlier than expected."

Hanji seemed to almost dance up the footpath, her grin wider than Historia had ever seen it. "I would have been even earlier if Sasha hadn't been stuffing her face before we left."

"Hey!" Sasha protested.

Historia followed Sasha up to the doorstep. The woman smiled warmly at them. "My name is Petra. It's nice to meet you. It's Christa, isn't it?"

Historia nodded. Before she could reply, Hanji grabbed Petra by the shoulders. "I smell lunch."

Sasha also seemed to have caught the scent of food from the flare of her nostrils and the hopeful look in her eyes.

Petra laughed. "Yes, yes, come this way." She welcomed them inside and closed the door behind them.

Petra pointed them towards a dining room while she returned to the kitchen for the food. The room was quite large, a wooden table in the centre, two of the seats already taken.

The boy stood up as they entered. Historia immediately recognized him and the girl seated beside him. _Eren and Mikasa. So that must mean that short man is here aswell? _

Historia felt a sense of unease. The man had seemed a bit _scary_ from what she'd seen and she didn't really want to be sat at a table with him.

"New people!" she heard Sasha whisper under her breath.

One glance at Sasha's expression dashed all uneasiness and Historia smiled, stepping further into the room.

Eren bowed his head slightly as Hanji approached him. "You the ones Petra and Levi took in?"

"Yes, ma'am," he answered formally. "My name is Eren and this is my sister, Mikasa."

_Sister?_ Historia studied the girl. The red scarf she had worn before was now in her lap, her hands holding onto it tightly. Her dark eyes gazed back evenly. She nodded in greeting. _She looks nothing like him._

"Just call me Hanji," she waved behind her. "This is Sasha and Christa."

Eren turned to them. "Ah, I recognize you from the train. You were sat opposite us, weren't you?"

Historia nodded. "That was me." She couldn't think of anything else to say and stuttered out, "It-It's nice to f-finally meet you."

The sharp click of shoes behind her made Historia turn around. The short imposing man that had met the two at the station was stood behind her. His eyes seemed to look straight through her.

"I didn't think you were going to take in another one." He said.

"Sasha needed a friend."

"We're not dogs!"

They took their places, Levi at the head of the table. He wore a white shirt and black trousers, everything about him perfectly clean and placed. Petra soon appeared, serving the food, telling them to "have what they wanted" and to not "hold back."

Historia soon realized that her first impression of the short man had been wrong. His words were still calm and sometimes curt, but his actions were careful and it was obvious that he shared Petra's joy in having Eren and Mikasa share their home.

"When are you returning to the frontlines?" Hanji suddenly asked halfway through the meal.

Historia saw Petra stiffen.

Levi had also noticed, his eyes watching her, and then he slowly looked up to meet Hanji's curious gaze. "In a few days. Erwin is leaving tomorrow."

"Erwin?" Hanji learned forwards slightly. "But didn't he take in that blonde boy?"

Eren and Mikasa looked up, both alert.

"That boy will be fine. He won't be left on his own. That estate isn't exactly empty."

Eren looked like he wanted to say something but was holding back. Levi turned to him and motioned for him to speak.

"Sir, that's our friend," he glanced at Mikasa. "Would it be alright if we went to see him?"

Historia was surprised that they hadn't met with their friend already. A week had passed. Had they been like her and not left the boundaries of their new home?

"I see no problem with that." The man replied after glancing across at Petra who had nodded in agreement.

Once the meal was over and everything cleared away, the three of them stood at the door, preparing to leave.

Petra suddenly cried out, saying she had something she wanted to give Hanji and rushed down the hallway. Eren and Mikasa were stood in the kitchen doorway, their farewells already given.

Levi stood beside them and placed a hand on Hanji's upper arm. "Look after her while I'm gone." He said quietly.

Hanji grinned. "Of course I will!" she said freely.

But the look in the man's eyes seemed to darken. "Hanji. Look after her. Please."

Her grin froze. She nodded solemnly. "You know I will."

At that moment Petra was walking back down the hallway towards them, a small package in her hands. Hanji's expression brightened. "Just make sure you come home to tell me all about those Nazis and their ammunitions!"

"You have the strangest interests." Levi said in a flat tone.

"Here you go." Petra joined them, passing Sasha the package.

"I thought it was for me?" Hanji looked disappointed.

"It's for all of you."

The package was actually something wrapped up in a kitchen towel and Sasha moved it aside to reveal a steaming hot pie.

"It's a blackberry pie. Mikasa and Eren helped me." Petra looked over her shoulder at the siblings who smiled back, Mikasa hiding her face behind her scarf that she had wrapped around her neck again, Eren looking slightly embarrassed but pleased for the acknowledgement.

"Thank you!" Sasha said, recovering the pie with the towel. "You'll have to show me how to make one sometime."

With a promise to have a future cooking lesson and their final goodbyes and words of appreciation said, the three left, walking down the footpath and away from the warm house.

As they walked back home, Historia glanced at the two beside her. Sasha looked happy, her hands holding the pie like something that would shatter if she mishandled it. Hanji had a small smile on her face but something in her eyes unsettled Historia. It was as if she was peering into the future and whatever she saw saddened her.

Sensing the girl's stare, Hanji looked at her. The dark look in her eyes vanished. "We'd better hurry – it looks like a storm is coming tonight."

And sure enough the sky was black and grey with heavy clouds, the air damp and humid with approaching rain. Sasha looked horrified. "The pie will be ruined!" She quickened up her pace and the other two struggled to keep up with her without pushing themselves into a jog.

As they reached the jumbled up house, Hanji passed the keys to Sasha who raced inside. Historia made to follow after her but the woman grabbed her wrist and pulled her back.

"Do you like it here?" she suddenly asked.

"Wha- yes, of course I do." Historia was surprised.

Hanji pushed her glasses up her nose. "You were quiet today."

"New people, new places – that's all. It's nothing to worry about." And it was the truth. Historia loved it here – the people were honest and kind, the village warm and the atmosphere something she had never felt before.

Hanji hesitated, and then sighed. "Okay." Rain started to fall around them, large drops landing on Historia's head, her pale dress darkening with the wet. "Okay," She repeated. "We'd better get inside."

**_-#-_**

Historia found Sasha in the kitchen, cutting the blackberry pie into slices. Once finished, she licked the knife clean off the dark juice and crumbled crust.

"You're still hungry?"

Sasha startled, spinning around, her tongue still on the knife. She moved it away from her mouth. "I'm just cutting it up for tomorrow."

But Historia had spotted that one of the slices was missing and found it on the counter behind the girl, placed on a small light green plate. "What's that then?"

"That's for…now." The girl smiled sheepishly. "Do you want some?"

She shook her head. "No, thanks. I'm going to get changed."

The day had past them by in a blur, and they had spent most of the day at Levi and Petra's, talking over cups of tea after their dirtied plates had been cleared away.

Before going to her room, Historia searched for Hanji and found her already collapsed on her bed, outside shoes still on. She went over to her and untied the laces, slowly pulling them off. She got a blanket from the laundry room and pulled it over the top of the sleeping woman.

With a smile, Historia quietly closed the bedroom door and went to her own room. After unzipping her dress, she pulled her nightdress on, slipping her cold feet into a pair of slippers that Hanji had given her.

She sat on the end of her bed and looked over at Sasha's side of the room. It looked very much like her own side, except for the bow that leaned against the bedside cabinet. Historia had once asked about it. "It's something from back home." The girl had replied.

_Back home…_ From what Historia had got, Sasha wasn't just another evacuee moved across the country because of the war. She seemed to have been living with Hanji for longer than that, before the war had even started. But Sasha hadn't told her anything and Historia was unwilling to ask any more questions when she too was hiding secrets.

She didn't realize she had fallen asleep until a loud banging noise woke her up. The bedroom was dark and cloaked in shadows. The sound of gentle snoring from Sasha's side of the room meant the girl had come to bed without her notice.

Listening, the banging noise seemed to come from outside. The wind was violent, the window shutters rattling as the rain pounded against the ground outside.

_It's probably the outhouse door. _The outhouse was a small store shed on the edge of patio at the back of the house, just before the fields started. It contained all the equipment that was needed to farm – seeds, rakes, shovels…

Historia raised herself up, her slippers quietly padding on the floor as she crept out into the hallway and down to the back door. She had no coat and had forgotten to take Sasha's from the hook behind the bedroom door. Hanji's was hung up in the outhouse so she could wear that for the return to the house.

She pushed open the door, grimacing at the loud click that echoed around the silent house. She slipped out, leaving her slippers inside, and grabbed her boots. She hurriedly put them on and sprinted across the patio, the rain pelting down around her.

Reaching the outhouse she saw that the door was unlocked and slightly ajar. She grabbed the handle and threw herself inside, closing it quickly behind her. _This rain is insane. Are storms always like this in the country? _

As Historia shifted her feet, her boot caught against something on the floor and she bent down to pick it up. Squinting in the darkness she made out the shiny metal of the lock that had kept the outhouse door closed. _Maybe someone forgot to lock the door after them._

She reached up to place it on one of the shelves above her and blindly searched for the lantern she knew was there. Her fingers hit glass and she brought the lantern down, along with the box of matches. She struck one, the flame lighting up her face and casting weird dancing shadows around her. Focusing on the lantern, she fiddling with it, putting the light match close until the wick lit and brightened.

She blew the match out and returned the box to the shelf. She raised the lantern high and turned around to scan the dancing shadows.

She moved further in until the light shone against the back wall of the outhouse and she slowly turned around on the tips of her toes, searching for any sign of what might have entered the outhouse. She expected to find a rat, maybe a stray dog, or even a runaway sheep from one of the fields. What she didn't expect was the shivering huddle in the corner, almost hidden behind a metal box pushed up against the wall.

She crept closer.

"Go away." A voice threatened. "Get out of here before I slit your throat."

There was a flash of silver metal in the orange light and a cold chill ran down her spine.

"Did you hear me? _Get out."_

But Historia couldn't move. She was frozen to the spot.

The blade flashed again and a face peered over the top of the box. Brown eyes gazed emptily at her. The huddle shifted. Historia raised the lantern higher, shuffling half a step, her legs blatantly refusing to work.

The huddle moved again and the face became clearer, shadows flickering across the person's freckled features. _Wait- freckled?_

Historia's legs suddenly jumped forwards. "Ymir?"

The huddle startled, the face disappeared back into the shadows. "How the hell do you know my name?"

Ignoring the question, Historia moved closer, crouching down beside the box, resting the lantern on top. "What are you doing here?"

There was no answer. The rain thundered above them against the outhouse roof, a wind like the ominous voice of gods sweeping in from under the door. Rain ran down Historia's face, freezing against her skin, dripping down under the collar of her nightdress and down her back.

She shivered.

The huddle moved again and the girl's face appeared once more in the lantern's light. Her brown eyes held something unfathomable and black. The sharp thin line of her lips and the empty gaze that stared at Historia made her lean back.

"You're that girl from the train…" the lips moved, her voice low and throaty. _Her lips are dry and cracked._

Historia brushed back her wet hair behind her ear and looked the girl straight in the eye. "My name is Christa." She stuck her hand out.

The brown eyes stared blankly at the offered hand and then, after a long pause, a large calloused hand reached out and took Historia's. "Ymir."

Historia smiled. "Yeah, nice to meet you, Ymir."


	5. Chapter 5

**Operation Pied Piper**

**Part Five**

Releasing Ymir's hand, Historia took a closer look at the tall girl. She was huddled in the corner of the outhouse, her back pressed against the wall, her entire body shivering violently in the cold. Her dark hair was plastered to her skin, her clothes drenched, raindrops falling from the tip of her nose.

Historia stood up and went over to the hook beside the outhouse door where Hanji's coat hung. She grabbed it by the collar and brought it back over to Ymir. "Here."

The girl looked at the coat, slightly leaning towards it. Then she shook her head. "You're wearing even less than me."

Historia looked down at herself. Her nightdress clung close to her, the pale material almost see-through from the rain. She panicked, holding the coat across her chest. Ymir chuckled. "Modesty _now_?"

Historia frowned. "How long have you been out here? Don't you have anywhere to go?"

A cold gaze struck her like a lightning bolt, those brown eyes swirling with dark emotions and threatening secrets. "I've been camping out in the forest. Then the rain started so I broke in here."

"The forest?!" her eyes widened. "But-"

"I have nowhere to go."

Historia pulled back, her hand reaching out to curl around the lantern's handle. _Nowhere? Why…?_ "Let's get you inside."

Ymir's head jerked up. "Inside?"

Historia bent down to take Ymir's hand, pulling the girl up. "Come on."

"No, no…" she wrenched her hand free. "I'm staying here."

She didn't know what to do. She couldn't just leave her here. "Then I'll stay here with you." Historia moved closer but Ymir suddenly rose, standing tall over her.

"Just leave me alone." Her voice was a deep growl, a warning, a threat.

Historia wasn't fazed.

She smiled and took the girl's hand again. "It's okay. Everyone's asleep anyway and it's warmer inside."

Ymir didn't reply.

"Please?"

With a sigh, Ymir's tensed shoulders dropped and she nodded, not meeting Historia's eyes.

She led the tall girl to the outhouse door and offered Hanji's coat to her again.

"Seriously, you need it more than me." Ymir frowned.

She lifted the coat higher.

The girl's teeth ground together and she seized the coat, throwing it across her shoulders and raising it above her head. "Go."

Historia put the lantern out, knowing the flame's light wouldn't last long in the rain outside, and replaced it on the shelf, picking up the lock as she did. She pulled the door open and they stepped out, the rain immediately hitting them, sending a chill down her spine.

She turned around and fiddled with the lock, struggling to see in the darkness. As she squinted and hunched over the lock, the rain pelting down against her back suddenly vanished.

She looked up to see Ymir standing beside her, holding the coat over both of them. "Thank you."

"Yeah, yeah, just hurry up."

With a snap the outhouse was finally locked and they turned, racing across the patio, their feet slapping and sending up splashes of water as they ran.

At the back door, Historia dragged her boots off, throwing them up against the wall into place, and pushed the door open.

Once inside, Historia eased the door closed, flicking the lock back on. She turned to see Ymir shaking her head like a dog, her hair sending rain water flying around them. "Hey!" she hissed.

The girl brushed her wet hair back with a hand and outstretched her arm to pass the coat to her. Historia took it and quietly made her to the kitchen, glancing down the hallway to check that no one had awoken.

She dropped the damp coat over the stool that guarded the pantry door and then almost bumped into Ymir as she spun around.

"Stay here." She whispered, motioning with her hands for Ymir to remain in the kitchen as she returned to the hallway. After retrieving a blanket from the laundry room, she went back to the kitchen to see Ymir eyeing up the blackberry pie Sasha had left on the counter under a towel.

"Have a slice." She whispered as she stood beside her. "It's already cut up. Here." She grabbed a plate from the cupboard and passed it to her.

Ymir took the plate but stared at Historia with a strange expression on her face.

"What?" Historia asked, feeling uncomfortable under the girl's intense gaze.

"Why are you helping me?" she whispered back.

"Why not?"

Ymir's mouth twisted, probably finding many answers to that question but deciding not to voice them.

She picked a slice and ate it greedily. She wiped away the food that clung to her mouth. "Thanks."

"Have another if you want," Historia smiled. "If you tell me why you aren't staying with anyone."

The girl paused but her hunger seemed to win her internal battle. She chose another slice. "No tag, no place to go."

"There are some children that are dropped off at the wrong places – they still get homes."

"I don't need anyone else. I'm fine on my own."

But Historia doubted that. She lifted the blanket in her hands. "Take this. I'll get some dry clothes for you to change into."

"Huh? Wa-"

But she had already stepped into the hallway before Ymir could stop her. Hanji's clothes were probably the best size for the tall girl and she crept into the woman's room.

Hanji was still passed out under the blanket she had put over her earlier. Her leg hung out over the edge of the bed, a steady snore filling the quiet of the bedroom.

Historia carefully opened drawers and blindly grabbed a shirt and trousers, rushing back out, her bare feet silent on the tiled floors as she returned to the kitchen.

Ymir was leaning against the counter, the blanket pulled tight around her shoulders. She didn't notice Historia has she neared, her eyes closed, her lips slightly apart as she took in deep breaths, her chest rising and falling under her crossed arms.

"Ymir…" she called.

She jumped, her eyes flashing open, her hands twitching, pulling the blanket tighter.

"Change into these."

Studying the clothes Ymir said, "You got a guy in the house?"

"Hanji doesn't seem to partake in dress wearing."

"Right." She took the clothes, the blanket falling from her shoulders to the floor. There was a moment's pause. "You want me to change here?"

Historia suddenly realized that she had been staring at Ymir, waiting for her to change, and she looked away. "Um, you can change in the pantry." She waved a hand in the direction of the small room.

"The _pantry_?" Ymir scoffed. "What's wrong with your room?"

"Sasha's in there. I share my room."

"She another evacuee?"

"Not really."

Ymir sighed, rocking back and forth on her heels. "Fine. Pantry it is."

She moved across the room and disappeared into the small room. Historia's mouth was suddenly dry and she swallowed, licking her lips. _Is this really alright? Shouldn't I wake Hanji up? What about Sasha? I just brought a complete stranger into the house in the middle of the night…_

The pantry door squeaked slightly on its hinges as Ymir stepped back into the kitchen, one hand straightening the shirt collar around her neck.

Historia went to her, taking the ball of wet clothes she held under her arm from her. "I'll put these in the laundry room. One moment."

Historia disappeared back into the hallway and returned a few minutes later, her own wet nightdress changed into a clean dry one.

"You're kinda dumb, aren't you?" Ymir asked, her voice muffled around the third slice of pie she had at her mouth.

"What?" Historia frowned, brushing out the hair that was trapped under her nightdress collar. "What do you mean?"

The tall girl's eyes roamed up and down her body, her jaw shifting side to side, the half-eaten slice of pie dropped back onto the counter. In only a few large steps, she was in front of Historia and pushing her back, back against the wall beside the door.

Her calloused hands wrapped around Historia's wrists, holding them either side of her head. Then one of her hands moved downwards and there was a flash of metal at Historia's throat. The knife she had caught a glimpse of in the darkness of the outhouse was now held to her throat, the blade held steady and chilling to the touch.

Ymir's face was close, her breath warming her cheek. A smirk fluttered on the girl's dry lips.

"You just let a stranger into your house," she murmured, her words patterning heat on Historia's skin. "A stranger that you know nothing of. I could be anyone and do anything."

Historia didn't move, her own breath caught in her throat, her heart hammering in her chest. Her blue eyes met Ymir's brown. "I know your name."

There was a moment's pause. Then Ymir scoffed. She released her wrists and moved away, the knife returned to the belt of her trousers, her hands shoved into the pockets. "You really are an idiot."

Historia let her arms drop back to her sides, leaning on the wall behind her. She took a deep breath and let it out, hating how shaky it was, hating how her body trembled. _That scared me. She scared me. No…she _scares_ me. _

She swallowed down her fear and raised her eyes to look at Ymir. The tall girl had returned to the discarded slice of pie and was finishing it off.

"Do you like it?" Historia asked.

"Hm?" the girl glanced over at her. "Yeah. Did you make it?"

Historia shook her head. "No, Hanji's friend did. We went to her house today. Petra and Levi."

"Petra and Levi, huh…?" she mumbled.

"Eren and Mikasa are staying there – do you remember them from the train?"

"Can't say I do."

Ymir started licking juice and crumbs from her fingers, her eyes scanning the room around her.

"Why aren't you staying with anyone?"

"I told you. I don't need anyone."

"But-"

"It's got nothing to do with you." She interrupted, her voice harsh and low. Her eyes snapped back to Historia, glaring, and the feeling of unpredictability unnerved the blonde girl.

The two stood in silence and time faded away, and before long the sounds of awakening birds rung out in the darkness outside.

Ymir twitched.

Historia pushed herself away from the wall and walked over to her. "Sasha will be up soon." She said quietly.

"You want me to leave."

"I didn't say that."

"But you don't want to explain yourself, do you?" a strange smile spread across the girl's lips. "You don't want to cause trouble. Right?"

She couldn't meet Ymir's eyes and instead stared at the floor. "I'm sorry." She mumbled.

A hand touched the top of her head, fingers running through her hair, ruffling it gently. The same hand that had held a knife to her throat was now touching her kindly. "Don't worry about it, shorty."

"Huh?" she jerked her head up. "What did you call me?"

The half-grin on Ymir's face struck Historia, an odd feeling constricting in her chest, pressure in the back of her throat.

"_Sh-or-ty." _She mouthed.

Historia bit her lip, holding back the retort she wished to give, and instead slapped Ymir on the arm which only made the tall girl laugh. Her fear of the knife that she knew was hidden beneath the hem of the Ymir's shirt was momentarily forgotten.

"Oh, forgive me! Have mercy!" she wailed, her voice never rising above a whisper.

"_Shut up." _Historia hissed, though there was no real reason for it.

"Okay, okay…" she ruffled her hair again and moved past her. "I'll be gone now."

Historia followed Ymir to the back door and as she clicked it open, she grabbed the tall girl's arm. "I'll wash your clothes and have them ready for you."

Brown eyes gazed emptily. "For me?" she repeated.

Historia nodded.

Ymir didn't move, her eyes frozen on Historia, her tongue running over her dry lips as she seemed to contemplate something. Then she gave a sharp nod and made a gruff noise in her throat.

She swung the door open and then was gone, her tall figure disappearing into the shadows of the night.

"Mm, Christa?" A sleepy voice mumbled behind her, making her jump and spin around.

Sasha was rubbing her eyes, her work shirt haphazardly thrown on, her buttons mismatched, her skirt not straight.

"What you doing up so early?" the sleepy girl asked.

Historia glanced back out at the dying night. "Nothing." She replied.


	6. Chapter 6

**Operation Pied Piper**

**Part 6**

Two nights had passed since Historia had found Ymir in the outhouse and she had yet to see the tall girl again. She had washed and dried the clothes she had left here and had prepared a small bag of food to give her. Historia often found her mind wandering to thoughts of the freckled girl as she worked in the fields, worrying about where she could be, wondering why she desired to be on her own so much.

As the third night darkened, Historia leaned against the counter in the kitchen, her lips on a rim of a glass of water, her gaze staring out across the room.

"Christa," a voice called from the hallway. "Bath's all yours."

Looking up, Historia saw Sasha standing in the doorway with her nightdress on, her hair slightly damp and a towel thrown over one shoulder.

"Thanks." She nodded, placing the glass beside the sink.

"See you in the bedroom," Sasha sleepily said as she turned away, returning to their room.

Historia doubted that the girl would still be awake when she finished in the bath.

Grabbing her towel and nightdress from the stool by the pantry door that she had brought in with her, Historia made her way to the bathroom. It was a smallish room, with a small bathtub against the back wall. She was thankful that Hanji had a bathtub rather than a metal bowl that they filled with hot water from the kettle by the fire, as she heard many families had. However, they did have to keep to the water rations and the three women shared the water on bath night.

Undressing, Historia eased herself into the water. Fortunately it was still lukewarm. She sighed, closing her eyes.

Tomorrow Sasha was taking her to meet Reiner and Bertholdt at the blacksmiths. It unnerved her, meeting new people, but hopefully Sasha's friends would be as nice as she made them out to be.

She had heard that the man of the estate at the top of the hill – Erwin Smith – had left for the frontlines. Levi would soon be following him, leaving on a train tomorrow afternoon. Hanji said she would be going to see him off, supplying "much needed support" for Petra.

Historia opened her eyes. _This war is real._ Sometimes when she gazed out across the quiet fields, the deaths and battles and fears seemed so far away. But as more men left and that black look she saw in Hanji's eyes deepened with every passing day, she knew _it was real_.

But in those moments when she paused in her work, peering out across the hills, she not only forgot the war but also forgot herself. In those still moments she was Christa Renz and no one else. She was the lie and the lie was her and nothing else mattered anymore, the past was something hazy and the breeze that brushed against her cheek was everything. When it rained, the freezing water that dripped down her neck was a gentle touch and the biting wind was the voice of the country village. The dirt that clung to her clothes and the mud her boots sunk into as she walked the fields was her new home taking hold of her.

_Christa Renz. _

But those moments were just moments. She would blink, the rain would lash hard against her face, the wind harshly pushing her back, the dirt would scratch her throat and the mud would steal her boot away from her foot. And she would realize that it could only ever be a lie. _Historia Reiss. _She could never escape the past or who she truly was. Even if no one saw it, she could, every time she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror.

Historia dived her head under the water.

**_-#-_**

They stood outside, feet on the road in front of the house. Hanji smiled as them, a strange tinge of sadness in her expression but she hid it with a small chortle as she grabbed Sasha's shoulder. "Don't fall into the furnace."

Sasha brushed her hand away, retreating a step. "How can you possibly fall into a _furnace? _I'm not an idiot." While her voice was firm, a wide grin spread across her face. They always seemed to be teasing each other.

"If you say so…" Hanji didn't look convinced, her smile still fluttering on her lips.

"I do say so."

Historia smiled as she watched the two but she knew that Hanji's heart wasn't in it. She was trying to hide that dark look, trying to conceal the sadness with a joke and a laugh. The three of them were leaving the house today – Sasha and Historia going to visit the blacksmith while Hanji went to the train station to wave off Levi and the other men leaving on a train to the frontlines.

Hanji turned to Historia, her glasses glinting in the afternoon sun as she moved. The bad weather seemed to have left, warming sunshine taking its place. "Don't let her fall her into the furnace, Christa."

"Of course I won't." Her smile grew.

"Hey!" Sasha glanced between the two, an indignant expression on her face.

"Yes, yes," The spectacled woman waved away the girl's protests and turned, starting to walk down the road. "I better get to the station before they go. See you girls later."

Sasha and Historia called their goodbyes after her and then silently watched the woman as she walked away.

"The three of them have been friends for forever," Sasha suddenly said. "Levi and Petra are engaged – they want to get married on a summer's day up at the estate. Petra asked Hanji to be her chief bridesmaid. But…"

Historia looked at Sasha. The girl had a faraway look in her eyes, the same dark look she sometimes saw in Hanji's. "But?"

"She feels like the war is tearing them apart. The entire village is being torn apart – the whole country. She knows that Levi thinks he won't be coming back this time and they both know that Petra is terrified of that."

Historia bowed her head, her gaze cast down to the ground. She didn't know what to say.

"That's why Levi and Petra decided on taking in evacuees. Two of them," Sasha flashed a smile, the dark look slightly fading. "Eren and Mikasa. To keep Petra company, to keep the house busy while he was gone. Of course, Hanji is willing to be by her side and everything, but she can't always be there, you know?"

"Yeah." Historia mumbled quietly.

"Ah," Sasha suddenly looked sheepish, the dark look completely vanishing. "Sorry, that's kind of depressive talk, isn't it? We should get going. Reiner and Bertholdt are expecting us."

Sasha straightened the pleats of her skirt before setting off in the opposite direction to Hanji, heading towards the blacksmiths, Historia following close behind.

As they walked past the forest, her eyes trailed over the tree line, searching the shadows for any sign of the mysterious tall girl. But there were none, the forest as silent as the wind, telling no secrets and giving no answers.

Historia began to wonder if she had dreamt that night, but the clothes folded in the bag along with the food she had prepared under her bed told her it wasn't. Those clothes told her that Ymir was real. Just as real as the war, but not as far.

**_-#-_**

The walls of the building were blackened with the ash and smoke that billowed out of the chimney, the oak door reinforced with black metal open to show a red glow in the shadows inside.

Sasha leaned against the door frame, her head peeking into the room. "Reiner!" she called, her voice resounding inside.

"Hey, Sash!" A deep voice answered, a tall muscular man appearing in the doorway. He was wiping his hands on an already filthily rag tucked into his belt, his face glistening with sweat and his short blond hair dulled the colour of coal.

Historia rocked back on her heels, slightly intimidating by the man's broad shoulders and strong build, but as his golden eyes turned to her, his expression softened.

"You must be Christa?" he asked.

Sasha whirled around, moving behind Historia, hands on her shoulders, cheek against hers. "Christa, this is Reiner," she introduced him with a wave of her hand. "Where's Bert?"

He motioned with a thumb over his shoulder. "Loading the shoes for tomorrow. He'll be out in a second."

"You're not going to show us around?" Sasha sounded disappointed.

Reiner raised an eyebrow at her. "You've been dozens of times already." He smiled at Historia. "I just don't think a blacksmiths is the best place for-"

Before Reiner could finish his sentence, Sasha leaned over Historia's head, her voice rising to a low shout. "_Oh? _So Christa is too good for this place – what does that make me?!"

Reiner opened his mouth to reply when a hand clapped down on his upper arm, moving him to the side as a fourth person joined them. "I wouldn't say anything, Reiner."

Historia had to bend back her head to be able to look at the newcomer's face who towered over them, his gentle green eyes smiling down at them. His face was also glistening with sweat, yet his skin and clothes were much cleaner than Reiner's.

"Ah, Bert," Reiner's voice boomed, the smile on his lips growing into grin at his friend's arrival. "This is Christa."

A slightly calloused hand reached out to take Historia's, her small hand lost in his grip. "It's nice to meet you." He said.

"Likewise." She returned.

"Now that everyone's here," Sasha spoke up. "Lunch?"

Historia turned to look behind her. "_Lunch?_ We ate before we left the house."

"That was late breakfast."

"Of course it was."

**_-#-_**

The four of them had spent the rest of the afternoon together, moving to sit behind the blacksmiths at a small table, eating sandwiches that Sasha had brought with her in the bag slung around her neck.

When they left, Reiner returned to his work and Bertholdt leaned back in his seat at the table, waving them goodbye as Sasha and Historia walked away from the building.

Once they reached home, they both saw that the house lights were on as evening rolled in. Hanji was home.

The two of them entered the house and moved down the hallway silently, taking off their shoes and leaving them beside the front door.

"Do you think…" Before Historia could finish, a pair of voices echoed down the hallway from the kitchen. Her question had been answered. Petra was here.

"She'll probably stay over." Sasha whispered.

"But what about Eren and Mikasa?"

"I heard they were going to see that friend of theirs up at the estate. "

"Armin?"

"That's the one."

The two girls paused outside their bedroom door. "We should go to bed." Sasha continued speaking in a hushed tone.

Historia nodded in agreement.

Once they both had turned in, their heads on their pillows, staring blindly up at the ceiling in the dark room. They could still hear Hanji and Petra's voices from the kitchen but they spoke too low for them to make out the words.

"Christa?" Sasha called in a whisper from her side of the room.

"Yeah?"

There was a pregnant pause, like the girl was having an internal conflict whether to say something or not. Then, "Goodnight, Christa."

"Goodnight, Sasha."

It wasn't long before Sasha's breath deepened and slowed, the girl falling asleep within minutes. For what seemed like hours, Historia stared up at that black ceiling, the darkness swirling and twisting in front of her eyes. And then she heard the click of shoes as the women left the kitchen and went into Hanji's bedroom, their voices cut off as the door shut.

The night was complete. The wind didn't shake the shutters, the rain didn't rattle at the windows. It was silent. Even the sound of Sasha's breathing seemed to fade away and there was only Historia and the darkness.

_Knock._

What?

_Knock. _

The dull thud disturbed the quiet, like a hard whisper outside, the sound like a cold breeze coming down the hallway and sneaking under the door to grab at her bare throat.

Historia got up, her feet sliding into her slippers, and slowly eased the bedroom door open.

_Knock._

She definitely wasn't hearing things.

She shuffled down the hallway, leaving the door slightly ajar behind her so the noise of it closing wouldn't resound around the house.

_Knock. _

The sound was coming from the back door and the small girl crept up to it, grateful that the door had a frosted glass window in it so she could see outside before opening it to check.

With her hand against the wall to steady herself, Historia stepped into the small backroom.

_Knock._

Historia's entire body startled, her heart jumping in her chest. A human-shaped shadow loomed on the other side of the door, a fist resting against the glass.

She couldn't move. Fear struck her like lightning, her heartbeat racing and strangling, choking her.

Then as the fist vanished back into the dark, she knew the person was about to knock again. She retreated a step, meaning to go and wake Sasha, to tell her someone was outside, but her slippers scrapped against the floor, the noise seemingly louder than the thud of flesh against glass.

The figure seemed to freeze.

Then the hand returned to the glass, the palm pressed against the window. Then the figure came closer, the outline of their face becoming clearer.

"Christa?" a voice whispered.

The thundering of her heart stilled.

"Ymir?" she whispered back.

The blurred face behind the glass dropped, as if the figure had been tense and was sighing in relief. "Open the door, will ya?"

Historia leapt forwards, her hands scrambling in the dark to find the lock and twist it open, pulling the door wide to reveal a bedraggled Ymir. The clothes that Historia had given her were slightly torn at the knees, as if she had fallen, her hair a mess atop her head.

Stepping inside, the tall girl leant against the wall, a hand clasping around the back of her neck. She turned her head to look at Historia, the small smirk on her lips clear to see in the dark grey light of night.

And all Historia could do was stare back, her eyes glued to those freckled features. Then she took a step towards her, reaching up with a hand, pretending not to see Ymir flinch as she neared, and picked out the stray leaf from the girl's dark hair.

She showed Ymir the leaf with a smile. "Sleep in the forest again?"

The girl looked stunned, her entire body pressed back against the wall. Then with a small stutter, the smirk returned. "Why, of course, it's the best place for a good night's sleep. Or didn't a princess like you know about things like that?"

Historia ignored her. All she could think was _she's real. She's really real. _

And then the night didn't seem as dark anymore.

* * *

**_A/N:_**

**Sorry for such a long delay but here's the next installment! University life and Christmas and just everything. Anyway, as a break away from revision, I typed this up. It's probably full to the brim with mistakes and overwhelmingly bad but whatever. **

**Leave your thoughts in a review and I'll try to be faster with the next chapter!**


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